


The City of Light

by Zelda_writes



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crossover Haikyuu!! / Final Fantasy XV, Duty in conflict with love, Elemental Magic, Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV universe inspired, Gods, Haikyuu!! characters - Freeform, Long fic (at least 8 chapters), M/M, Modern Fantasy, Modern Royalty, Occasional fights (guns-blades and magic), Occasional monsters, Road Trip, Sharing a Bed, Soulmates, Strained Parent-Child Relationship, Valentine's Day 2019, angst with happy ending, non-canon, sharing a car
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 17:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelda_writes/pseuds/Zelda_writes
Summary: Tetsurou hugged the notebook to his chest, relishing the feeling of the leather he had touched for the first time years ago, an efficient tool to communicate provided by Kei’s smart mind. He opened it and read his lover’s neat handwriting. “I’m going ahead. Guess you’ll have to reap what I’m sowing. Do not try to get to me, for now. Please, be safe. O.” Tetsurou sighed. “The Oracle has spoken.”





	The City of Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenmagoesblep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmagoesblep/gifts).



> Hello Kimmi, this is your gift for Haikyuu!! Valentine's Day Exchange. I followed two of your prompts, soulmates au and Final Fantasy XV au. I never played the game, but knowing it is a famous RPG (I love RPGs), I got curious and started doing researches about it. I eneded up watching 3 out of 6 playthroughs I found on youtube. I loved the game, and I have to thank you for this wonderful discovery. As you see, there are other chapters to come. I hope I'll update as soon as possible.  
> Have a nice Valentine's Day.

Carried by the rhythm of the music, his thoughts unravelled, spurred by the fuzzy landscape unfurling at his right. Yellow beams coming from their headlights and sparse lampposts illuminated the barren surroundings, and once in a while, a groundhog poked his head out of the roadside, unusually curious to see who drove a car in the middle of the night. But wasn’t their eyesight terrible, or were practically blind only moles? Tetsurou tried to focus on those menial ruminations, all to stir away from the places his mind tended to bring him in this semi-hypnotic state. The black pits of despair chocking him, he didn’t like them, but his masochistic side craved to touch the core of its numb pain, by now so familiar to him. He wondered if one day they would give him a fidelity premium for his perseverance in self-torture, a nice token to show to his King Father as a proof of his capability to be loyal to something. After all, the sad look gave him a mysterious aura which could appeal the bride Father was searching for him, his rebellious Prince Son whose time to settle down had come. Preferably, with some girl approved by the Empire. It didn’t matter Tetsurou was already in love with someone, that the feeling sat deeply rooted in both him and his soulmate.

Ages ago, the royal houses of all around the galaxy had found a convenient method to solve these issues, other than physically eliminating an undesired soulmate of a king or a queen to be, a strategy which had indeed caused not insignificant troubles. The survived mate lived in excruciating pain most of the times, a torment for his body and soul, they knew no peace after the connection was forcedly broken; in addition, when the unapproved mate happened to be a noble or a member of another royal family, murder wasn’t the smartest choice. Unless one wanted to cause a war. The solution the families came up with seemed genial to calculating minds, a hell made real to softer souls. Elders, King Fathers, Lord Uncles or Queen Mothers, whoever was in charge to take such sort of decisions would declare platonic the previously existing bond of their scion and arrange a diplomatic wedding with the most suitable partner for their heir, who became trade currency aimed to secure alliances and gain new power.

Tetsurou’s bond fell in the spectrum of cases that required a wise solution, considering his soulmate was no other than the Oracle, Tsukishima Kei. Besides, for as much as his Father was a severe king, he couldn’t kill someone for the life of him. And Tetsurou could swear he got a soft spot for Kei, that he was almost more fond of Kei than of his own son. Theirs would have been a blessed union in different times and circumstances, the times now smelling of soon to come war and the circumstances being that his soulmate, a beautiful young guy, would never be able to give Tetsurou an heir. In the past, enlightened royal parents let be their sons and daughters in a similar predicament, and asked them merely to choose an heir to adopt from a list of family members they had selected. The past lay buried in a place it seemed impossible to reach now.

Bile rose to Tetsurou’s throat at the image of his King Father bending to the Empire just to obtain a peace treaty. His Father knew what he was asking them, how much Kei would suffer fulfilling his duties since, whenever the Oracle completed his annual blessing tour across their cities and villages, they required that he stayed by the new King’s side. Kei should bless Tetsurou’s wedlock and watch over the children born from that union as the most loyal protector of the royal house would do. Though, Tetsurou had seen a glimpse of hope the moment the King announced his Prince Son would travel in the company of his fellow counsellors (and friends), a road trip through the cities of their realm meant to set clear that the Prince was ready to play his role as future ruler. His first popularity tour to his Father, a chance to find another way to keep their realm safe to Tetsurou. A way that not included Tetsurou and Kei’s life to be sold to their enemy.

As if adding physical discomfort helped him to find a bit of clarity in the turmoil of his brain, he kept staring through the window to gain the little privacy that the passenger seat, a place of honour for His Highness, had stolen him. He had been ignoring the stiffness in his neck for a solid hour, any regret set for the day after. Which, technically, had already begun: 2 a.m. and they managed to ride unperturbed at a speed his loyal Akaashi didn’t risk to reach during the day. Never know when a Chocobo crosses the high road. All along the drive, Tetsurou had been painfully aware this would be the last chance he had to turn the tables in favour of the love he shared with Kei, when no one had still labelled him “betrothed” to some unfamiliar woman.  
  
Luckily, his heart lit with tenderness and not an ounce of envy while he followed with half his mind the exchange of the newly bonded soulmates in the car. If they left him out of their conversation, it was done out of respect for his brooding mood. However, Bokuto chatted the way he did whenever he felt the need to fill the silence, his self-deprecating guilt evident in the glances he darted at Tetsurou more often than not. And no one could say that Akaashi didn’t help him, an efficient sidekicker offering lines which kept alive the dialogue. But the couple was so busy in trying to ease Tetsurou’s tension that it passed unnoticed how much the only single man in the car was fuming: Iwaizumi’s patience got thoroughly tested by Bokuto, his backseat companion of the day. Tetsurou wondered to which degree the music of choice thinned the sturdy guy’s restraint. Cruel as it may seem, he was amused by the sight of Iwaizumi the royal bodyguard nearing the brink of snapping.

“Understood, it’s about a deja-vu. I know it’s a song, but a bit of logic wouldn’t hurt, right, ‘Kaashi?” Bokuto still called him using his last name in front of them, maybe because, the instant he had tried to address Akaashi as Keiji even in their familiar company, Akaashi’s face exploded in hues of the deepest red Tetsurou had ever seen creping on human skin. “Why one should be scared of a feeling of recollection? He’s dreaming, he already knows how things will end and that he will wake up, eventually.”  
“I suppose it is because he is having a nightmare, and no one enjoys such recurrent visits.”  
“Yeah, I can see that, ‘Kaaashi. Yet, knowing that is not reality should help him,” Bokuto said, an arm draped over the headrest of his lover and his eyes flying between him and Tetsurou. He appeared pleased to have gotten the attention of his Prince back to reality.  
Akaashi reflected a bit, “I suppose you’re right. But he fears it’s not a dream.”  
“Man, this band is amazing, Akaaaaashi, could you replay the song?”

“Do not dare,” came a command from Iwaizumi. “Those drums are drilling into my brain,” he said behind the screen provided by his book. Banter in arriving, thought Tetsurou, and suppressed a snort.  
The strong curl of Iwaizuni’s fingers shrank the appearance of the volume, the aggressive cut of tribal tattoos on his arms a sharp contrast with the fluttering writing of the title displayed on the cover. Why using that kind of font for an ominous title such “Tomorrow never ends” had been considered a good idea Tetsurou couldn’t fathom, even as he squinted into the rear-view mirror to pick the details of the illustration on the front.  
Bokuto wasn’t ever late at complaining, “spoilsport!”  
“A true killer.”  
“Whatcha ya reading?”  
“A post-apocalyptic story.”  
“Any zombies in there?”  
“Not exactly.”  
“How exactly?”

The book thudded on Iwaizumi’s thigh, a hand dragged over his face. However, the sigh he produced wasn’t so annoyed. Maybe he had mercy of Bokuto’s nervousness, which usually exacerbated the guy’s chatty side. They all sniffed the tension in the air, Tetsurou knew it, the one coming from each of them, the one each of them tried to subdue in different ways.  
Tetsurou decided to intervene and turned in his seat, “if you don’t let him finish reading it, I bet he will retaliate and never tell you a thing about it.”  
“I could always read the book,” Bokuto pouted.  
“I hate to be discouraging, Iwaizumi,” Akaashi contributed, “but he is an eager, curious reader. He won’t leave you alone.”  
“How many p-”  
Iwaizumi fanned the book in front of Bokuto’s face, spelling out the words, “five hundred thirty-seven pages before I finish it. I am a slow reader. The more you interrupt me, the longer you’ll wait to read it next.”  
“You’re so damn evil.” A burst of signature laughter and Bokuto’s camera popped out. At that Iwaizumi resumed his pose, ready for the picture to be taken. “And a liar. You’re faster than me.” Some clicks after, Bokuto almost climbed in Iwaizumi’s lap to catch his lover’s profile, receiving a gruffy “gross” from the bodyguard.  
“What His Nerdiness would like as soundtrack?” Tetsurou asked, grinning at Iwaizumi.  
“Some ballads can do-”  
“Nooooo,” Bokuto’s howl echoed in the confined space.  
“- by a not hideous metal band, the one Akaashi loves.”  
“You have to be more specific,” their driver’s hand already went for the multimedia display at the centre of the dashboard.  
“The Northern one,” Iwaizumi said, his lop-sided smile meant for Bokuto, whose fist bumping frozen the moment a couple of rattles came from the hood of the car. She hiccuped, jerked several times and halted.

***

“Whose idea was,” Iwaizumi grunted, pushing the car, “to travel at night, again?”  
Apparently calm, Akaashi sat behind the wheel to keep the tires steady. “Pardon me, I wasn’t supposed to know our car would have stopped after a few kilometres,” he said, a veil of offence in his voice. Being Akaashi their strategist, an accuse of poor organisation wounded his self-esteem easily. “She was in top-notch form last I checked.”  
The road seemed an endless cliff whereas it stretched level beneath their feet. “Don’t complain, Hajime, and puuuuuush!” Tetsurou was near to the limit of his forces. At the other side of the car, he could see the muscles of his bodyguard bulging under strain. He wondered how Bokuto was doing propelling the vehicle from behind the trunk. “Kou, you alive there?” When Bokuto responded only with an affirmative groan, Tetsurou decided they needed to stop. But as he opened his mouth to voice his concern, Iwaizumi ordered them to come to a halt and get their arms ready: something gleamed in the middle of the dried grass alongside the road. Apparently, their trip didn’t begin under an auspicious star.

A giant biped with the head of a boar, the claws of a panther and the tail of an enormous lizard showed all the intentions to charge them. With a silencer on the end of his gun, Bokuto managed to keep the carnage silent, while the other three men shut their mouths and fought, cooperating as best their tired bodies could. Attracting other monster fellas the last thing they wanted. That kind of creature seemed a product of a funny mind, because there was no way nature had given birth to a similar thing. That meant the Empire must have secretly broken the truce and began to sprinkle his evil servants over their realm. Tetsurou pondered what other behemoths they should soon face if this early in their travel they were so effortlessly attacked. That much for his Father deluding himself his Prince Son’s marriage could be a good bargain for a peace treaty.

In the desolation of the high road, someone drove past them, a kind soul who quickly reversed and approached them. “Your Highness,” a familiar face Tetsurou would recognise everywhere in the world offered, “I can drop you at the next outpost.”  
The Prince jogged to the newcomer, a big smile stretching his face. He got closer to the driver’s window, so that their exchange remained between the two of them. “You, of all people.” He shook his head. “Always thought you’ve got a sixth sense, kitty cat.”  
His old friend’s eyes glinted in the dim moonlight, a tiny smirk meant only for him painted on his lips. “Kuro, ever so dramatic.”  
***  
Before hooking their car up to Kenma truck’s hitch and hopping into the vehicle, Tetsurou warned his companions not to question Kenma, unless they wanted to put his old friend in an uncomfortable position. Only half-lying, he promised them he would answer their questions later, after Kenma had dropped them at the service station.

Once again, Tetsurou carved a moment to speak privately with him. “Don’t be a stranger, Ken. I missed you.” He really did, all in the last years had separated him from the persons he held dearest, Kei and Kenma. Looking into Kenma’s eyes, he remembered of lazy summers in Lucina city, the City of Light, spent in Kei’s garden searching for strawberries and strange little animals which could catch Kenma’s attention and drag him out of his obsession for video games. Kenma, Kei’s messenger in the times they had to be apart, was now helping him in the strangest of ways. Tetsurou supposed the current predicament pressed his old friend into taking more missions to help both Tetsurou and Kei. After all, Kenma didn’t lack the instinct for knowing when they needed him.  
“I’ll see you soon.” Saying his greeting, the Messenger of the Oracle put a notebook in Tetsurou’s hands. “Take your time. We’ll meet at the next city you stumble upon.”  
“I don’t stumble upon cities! I have a plan!”  
“Could have fooled me,” Kenma smirked, waved, and he was gone. Tetsurou hugged the notebook to his chest, relishing the feeling of the leather he had touched for the first time years ago, an efficient tool to communicate provided by Kei’s smart mind. He opened it and read his lover’s neat handwriting. “I’m going ahead. Guess you’ll have to reap what I’m sowing. Do not try to get to me, for now. Please, be safe. O.” Tetsurou sighed. “The Oracle has spoken.”

In the meantime, Bokuto had chosen the wrong place to talk to Akaashi, his voice carried too loud for the late hour, just under the window of the service station staff’s house. Belatedly, Tetsurou hissed at his buddy to keep quiet, but a dim light brightened up the first floor. The four of them inhaled deeply, he could see Akaashi mortified expression, Bokuto scraping the ground with the toe of a shoe, and Iwaizumi facepalming.

A figure loomed from above, peering behind the curtain. It disappeared for a bit, and the guys thought they were safe for the night, already retreated toward the car, making arrangements to decide who would take the backseat. Alas, in his excitement to deny he and Akaashi needed the comfiest spot (the one which would provide the couple with a bit of privacy), Bokuto raised his voice again. This time, the window opened so abruptly Tetsurou could hear the air pushed away by the angry gesture.  
“Would you be so kind, sirs, to let poor workers sleep?” A tall guy wearing pyjamas - was that a pattern with tiny aliens? - yelled at them. A pause. The stranger extended his long neck like a turtle, most likely to peer at them in the darkness. “Y-your… Highness?”  
Even in the night, Tetsurou supposed his hair would give his identity away. He rushed under the window. “I am deeply sorry for having troubled you. Please, accept our apologies. I promise we won’t disturb you anymore, we’re going to sleep,” he gestured toward the car.  
“That’s the royal car?”  
“She is. She has abandoned us in the middle of the high road,” Akaashi answered. “My apologies as well, sir. If you could be so kind as to let us stay in this parking lot, we need to rest.”  
“In the car?”  
“I’m afraid we have no other choice.”  
“You’ll freeze to death. You can’t let our Prince die of exposure!” The guy sounded genuinely outraged.  
Iwaizumi interrupted the surreal exchange. “Then please, suggest us a place to stay the night.”  
“The motel down the alley is all booked, and the nearest one is too distant to reach it walking in the night.” He glanced back into the room, as if searching for something. “I… I would host at least the Prince, but if I let him in at this hour and my grandpa wakes up, he could have a stroke.”  
“We understand-”  
“Wait!” The guy retreated. When he returned, he tossed a pair of long legs over the windowsill, mostly bare for he wore tiny shorts. His feet got planted on the roof of the porch, and a bundle of blankets which he cradled like a baby was tossed to them. “At least they’ll keep you warm.”  
“Thanks,” said Iwaizumi.  
“No problem. Tomorrow I’ll try to repair your car.” He scratched the back of his neck. “My name is Oikawa Tooru. My grandpa and I are the mechanics in charge of this service station. Uhm, sorry for scolding you, Your Highness.”  
“We were at fault, Oikawa-san, His Highness surely doesn’t mind,” said Akaashi.  
“Of course, I don’t mind.” From the corner of his eye, Tetsurou saw Iwaizumi staring at the guy. Interesting.  
“Sorry!” Came Bokuto’s subdued apology.  
“Thank you for the blankets. Good night.” Iwaizumi ended the exchange, his gaze lingering for a second on Oikawa, who straightened his back at those words and smiled, “Night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading till the end of my first chapter. Kudos, shares and comments are fuel to my writing. Feel free to encourage me if you liked what you read.


End file.
